Back Home
by Andorra97
Summary: When Tom pays a visit to Downton after one year in Boston, he goes for a picnic with Mary and the children. "Brary" but in no way romantic. Just a friendship drabble that I could see happen in series 6.


_After many months, I've finally written something again. Good feeling! Maybe I'll be able to return to my writing after all and maybe even finish my still unfinished story "The one that got away". I won't make a promise, but I'll try._

_This is how I think series 6 could start. It's "Brary", but just friendship and not romantic. I love Tom and Mary's friendship, it has been the only highlight in an, otherwise very disappointing series 5, for me. _

_The story is not beta-read and I'm not a native speaker, so bear with me if the language is not very good. I hope you'll be able to enjoy this little drabble anyway._

**Back home**

It was two days after Tom's arrival, when Mary proposed a picnic with the children. It wasn't lost on Tom, that she chose a day when Edith had other plans with Marigold, so that she couldn't attend, but he didn't mind. Something wasn't right. He had noticed it immediately when she greeted him two days ago and he knew if Edith was around, she would not be open about it.

They set off in bright sunshine, right after lunch and Tom drove the car, exchanging grins with Mary from time to time about something they heard the children say to each other on the back-seat. Sybbie and George obviously had no problem returning to their old brother/sister like relationship, even though they had been apart for over a year. Just as it always had been when they still lived at Downton, Sybbie was chatting without pause and George was just nodding from time to time, a serious expression on his face, but obviously happy to listen to her.

"I was afraid they would have been estranged by now," said Mary. "It was hard the first weeks after you left. "

Tom nodded, painfully remembering the crossing. He had really doubted his decision to go to America then, because of Sybbie's distress. She cried a lot, missing George and missing Nanny. He had been naive to think that it would be enough for her, that he was with her. He was her father after all and had always been involved in her daily life, but in those first days after he left Downton, he realized that it had been Nanny most of the time, who soothed Sybbie when she hurt or cried. And it had been George with whom she played all day.

It had gotten better after a while. They settled in nicely in Boston and Sybbie quickly became friends with her cousins, but the doubt never completely left Tom. Had he done the right thing for Sybbie? And was he doing the right thing now?

"I'm glad," he said. "Sybbie missed George a lot, so it's nice that they're still close. I hope they will be all their life."

"Luckily he has Marigold, too," Mary said. "But it's not quite the same. She really is a sweet little thing, but not as energetic as Sybbie and he misses that."

_"And you still don't know about her...,"_ Tom thought. Not for the first time he felt awkward in his relationship to Mary and Edith. How two sisters could be so different and so difficult with each other was beyond his understanding, but he had learned to just resign to it and let them fight their quarrels alone.

They arrived at their destination and Tom parked the car at the side of the road, so that it wouldn't be in the way. He fetched the picnic basket Mrs Patmore had prepared for them and they headed towards the little lake where Mary pulled out a blanket and sat down in the grass in the shade of a tree. Sybbie and George immediately ran towards the shore. Tom had promised them to teach them how to fish, so he gave each of them a rod and line and showed them how to cast it.

Mary watched them with a smile on her face. "What will you do if they really catch something?" she asked when he came to her.

Tom grinned. "I don't think they will, but I know how to kill a fish, if that's what you're asking." He grimaced. "I don't like it though, so I guess every fish that will be stupid enough to bite, will go back into the lake."

Tom sat down on the blanket besides her, took the basket and looked into it. "Let's see what Mrs Patmore has made us." He sighed happily when he saw the selection of dishes. "Ah, heaven. This looks so good. That's one thing I've missed terribly. Mrs Patmore's cooking!"

"Do you have a cook over there? Or do you have to do it yourself?"

"No cook. I eat at work and Sybbie eats with my cousin's family. So I just fix us a little bit in the evening."

Mary shook her head. "You're living a completely different life now."

"Downton was the "different" life for me," he laughed. "Now I'm just back to my old way of living."

He leaned back against the tree, watching the children who were still "fishing". "If Sybbie keeps talking like that, we don't need to worry about any poor fish."

Mary chuckled. "She reminds me so much of Sybil," Mary said. "Sybil was just the same when she was at that age. Looking like her and with all her energy."

Tom smiled softly and Mary noticed not for the first time, that he always did that when they talked about Sybil. It was a special smile, not sad exactly, but very warm and with a real happiness deep down in it.

_"Do I smile, too, when I think of Matthew?" _She couldn't say.

She was not sitting relaxed, so she tried leaning against the tree, too, but found it's rough surface not very comfortable so she straightend up again.

"Come'ere" Tom said, watching her struggle. He held out his arm, so she could lean against him instead of the tree. Mary raised an eyebrow and he grinned. "Don't worry, it's 1924. You won't get forced to marry the chauffeur for this."

Mary laughed and rolled her eyes. "I assure you the chauffeur wouldn't even be the worst prospect these days", she said and Tom sensed that there was more to this than her smile betrayed.

"Oh? What happened", he asked. "When I left for Boston I was sure I would hear from your engagement to some lucky man very soon."

"Some lucky man?", she sighed. "Who might that be?"

"Well, I thought of Charles Blake actually, but then this Henry Talbot guy seemed very interested when we were at Brancaster and I got the feeling you liked him, too."

Mary shrugged. "I haven't even met him again. Why are you bringing him up?"

"No reason. I remember that he talked about cars to me. I think he's in the business somehow, but there was no opportunity to ask before he left the next morning." He looked at her. "But what about Blake? You seemed to be very close. I was sure that after you had decided against Tony, that Blake would be your choice."

"No, not really," Mary said. "He's a friend, nothing more. He went to Poland for a year and I found out that I didn't miss him much so..." She sighed and gave him a little push with her shoulder. "As it is right now, I've ran out of suitors, so my sole prospect right now is staying single and live with Edith for the rest of my life. What about you? No modern American woman that has swept you off your feet yet?"

Tom chuckled. "No," he said. "I guess I'm not easily swept off my feet these days." He grinned. "I haven't been actively looking, but I wasn't averse to the idea either, but nothing."

"Do you miss it?"

"What? Being swept of my feet?"

Mary nodded. "Yes and all of it. Not just being in love, but being married."

"Yes, I guess I do," Tom answered. "Having someone to share your life with. Having someone to care for and to come home to. Someone with the same interests and someone to laugh with. But I'm not sure this is going to happen for me again."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure I'm able to fall in love again. I didn't before Sybil and not since her death. Maybe it just happens once. "

"This is a sad thought," Mary said. "Doesn't that depress you?"

Tom laughed softly. "A little bit. But I have this image in my head and this feeling in my heart whenever I think of Sybil. And I just know I won't settle for less. It has to be all or nothing."

"Did you find that out when you courted Sarah Bunting?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "I didn't court her. She was a friend nothing more."

"I don't think she saw it that way," Mary said. "It was obvious that she wanted more than friendship."

"Maybe," Tom leaned his head back against the tree. "Maybe I was thinking about it a bit. But then I couldn't imagine. She was interesting. I liked it that she was so independent and progressive, but it would have been "settling" and I realized that I'm not ready to do that."

"I think I agree," Mary said with a sigh. "Before Matthew I was ready to marry for position only. I thought I could settle for contentment with Tony. He's a nice man. Good looking, charming, in love with me, understanding about my position and so on. But then I just realized that I can't do it. Matthew and I, we weren't just _compatible_. It was more."

"Exactly," Tom said. "It was more. I wish I could have this "more" again, but I'm not sure it is going to happen."

He pointed at Sybbie and George, who had long given up on "fishing" and were now chasing each other around the beach giggling. "Look at those two, though. Whenever I get sad, I look at Sybbie and I know that I'm a very lucky man. I'm sure her mother would be so proud of her."

"She would be," Mary smiled. "And George is a little Matthew. I haven't detected much of me in him, lucky child. He's his father through and through."

"Don't put yourself down. There's much good in him that he has from you."

"Stubbornness you mean?" Mary laughed.

Tom shook his head. "For one thing the realization that you're not perfect is one of your good features."

"Thank you," Mary said, her expression soft. "I don't feel very perfect right now... Just frightened."

"Because?" Tom asked, as her voice got small at the end of the sentence.

"Papa."

Tom's eyes widened. So his first suspicion had been right? He had noticed that his father in law didn't look particularly well when he arrived at the Abbey, but had thought it was only his own imagination since Lord Grantham had been so cheerful and happy in his greeting.

"Is he ill?" he asked.

Mary nodded. "The ulcer, you know? It wasn't an ulcer after all. Dr. Clarkson says there's nothing we can do. Just wait. He's doing al right so far, but I'm frightened. How much pain will he have to endure, how bad will it be? And then there's the estate. I'm not sure I can do it. I really don't know if I'm able to do it alone...," her voice cracked a little and she stopped.

Tom closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry," he said. "And now I understand why he was so insistent that we 'd come for a visit."

"He couldn't bear the thought of not being able to see Sybbie again. You know, he's fond of you, Tom, but he adores your daughter. It's his greatest happiness that she is here now." Mary smiled at Sybbie and George, who were still playing together. "Look at them. Who can be sad when they're around?"

For a while they sat next to each other, silently watching their children.

"I won't leave," Tom suddenly said."Not now that I know. I'll write my cousin when we get back to the house."

"But would you do that?" Mary tried her best not to sound so desperate, but he could very well see in her face, that she was hoping he was meaning it. "Aren't you needed there?"

"I should hope I am, but I can be replaced. I think I can be of more help here," Tom said firmly.

Mary could feel tears spring to her eyes and she rapidly tried to blink them back. "Thank you," she said. "I'll be grateful to have you here when the worst happens. I wouldn't know what to do with the estate. Bertie Pelham is doing a good job, but..."

"I know," Tom said and squeezed her shoulder a bit. "And don't worry. I'll help you and you'll be doing fine, I promise."

Mary smiled. "I'm so glad you're here. Tom. I've missed you terribly, you know?"

"Likewise," Tom smiled. "And I'm happy to be back home."


End file.
